


Schoolyard Blues

by GoodIdeaAtTheTime



Series: Little Legacies [2]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: But they get a gold star for trying, Domesticity, Duo and Wufei know nothing about parenting, Hey guess what I'm making that teaching degree work for me, Kid!Fic, M/M, Outsider Perspective, be nice to schoolteachers, they work very hard and put up with a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 03:26:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11004981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodIdeaAtTheTime/pseuds/GoodIdeaAtTheTime
Summary: A new teacher starts at the local town school, hoping for an easy year after moving from the big city. Unfortunately, she wasn't prepared for the child of two men who don't understand kids at all...





	Schoolyard Blues

The primary school in the small Belgian town of Rijkveld was positively idyllic. A grey stone building on the edge of town, it had climbing ivy on the walls and was surrounded by playing fields, and then beyond them was farmland. It looked like a fairy tale school.

Émilie St Croix paused to take in the sight on the bright September morning, trying to commit to memory forever the blue of the sky, the faint smell of Autumn in the air, and the warmth of the last of the summer sun. Moving to Rijkveld had been the right choice. She could feel it. In the two weeks since she’d come here, she was already more at peace than she had ever been in Paris. People seemed more relaxed, and open, and as a result, so did she.

This school was so much smaller than her last school as well, catering only to the town and the handful of villages and farms nearby. A one-form intake, a 30-student class. Compared to the four-form, 120-a-year intake at her last school, this was going to be a breeze.

Her positive introspection was interrupted when someone bustled into her from behind.

“Oh, sorry, excuse me! I didn’t see you!”

The woman who had ploughed into her was laden down with large grocery bags, filled with books, toys, and crayons. She was carrying a large pile of exercise books, and as she worked to regain her balance, the pile slid and ended up all on the floor around her feet.

“Bollocks,” said the woman, and then looked around herself, panicked. Another teacher, then, checking she hadn’t accidentally taught a child something that wasn’t on the curriculum.

Satisfied the coast was clear, she tried to juggle the bags as she crouched down to scoop up the books that had scattered around her. Émilie took pity on her and helped her gather them up, taking half of the pile as they stood.

“Thanks,” the other woman said, holding out her arms to take them.

“I’m heading in, I can carry them,” Émilie reassured her, moving aside and holding the gate open for her. The other teacher was probably only in her mid-30s, and it was before classes on the first day of school, but already she looked harried and frazzled. Her brown hair was starting to fall out of the neat plait she had it in, and her clothes were looking somewhat less than pressed. Her eyes were sharp, though, and she studied Émilie thoughtfully as she passed and then fell into step beside her.

“You’re the new lady, then?” she asked.

“Yes! I’m Émilie.”

“Colette,” Colette said with a grateful smile. “Sorry, I’m normally more together than this, but I was on mat leave until the end of last term, and I forgot what mornings are like. It’s a bit of a shock to the system.”

Émilie laughed as Colette shouldered her way through the doors and led the way down the corridors. They were freshly painted, and clean, with display boards blank and waiting for the influx of pictures from the school’s population. Colette was giving a running commentary as they passed various rooms.

“The reception and admin office is just down there, you’ll want to head over there in a bit to get your register and all the bits, I can take you if you like. Staff room is opposite the Head’s office there, you’ve met Luke? Yeah, he’s alright, as Heads go. Assembly hall’s in there – it doubles as the sports hall too, so it can get a bit ‘feety’ in the summer. Kids, y’know? Just try to go outside for PE when you can. And… here’s me!” She paused outside a classroom, twisting to work the handle with her hip and nudging it open, switching the lights on with her shoulder as she tottered in.

Émilie followed and set the exercise books she was carrying neatly on the table, and looked around at the classroom. The sets of tables, the reading corner with beanbags and a little privacy tent, the arts area filled with new bottles of paint… It was nearly identical to her room – she had been in a few times over the last week to make up name tags for drawers and coat hooks, and decorate a little. Her supplies were already in the classroom, ready and waiting for her students.

“I’m just next door,” she said cheerfully, as Colette started unpacking one of her bags. “We’re neighbours!”

A box of crayons hit the floor with a clatter, and Émilie suppressed a wince – they’d all be broken now. But Colette was staring at her.

“You’re in year 3?”

“Yes?”

“Oh. Oh you poor thing,” Colette said, coming over and gripping Émilie’s arms sympathetically. “That’s really mean of them, and you’re _new_ as well. That’s so naughty. Penelope must have kicked off and gone back to year 1. What a cow. If you need anything, you can come get me. I only had her for a few months before I went off, but I got some great tips from Clemence in the Kindergarten and-“

“Hang on,” Émilie interrupted, baffled. “What’s mean of them? Only had who for a few months?”

“You poor thing,” Colette said, sighing heavily and shaking her head. “You’ve got Chang.”

 

*

 

It had been remarkably easy to identify Chang, once her class had filed in and all sat obediently on the carpet for registration. Even with the open borders that had been put into place over the last few years, the tiny, rural Belgian school was demographically very different from her previous city location. Her class was largely filled with little blonde, white children, a handful of brunettes, and one little boy with a shock of bright red hair and a face full of freckles. Aside from that, she had three black children, a set of twins of South Asian extraction, and Chang.

Studying the child, Émilie couldn’t see what all the fuss was about. The little girl was tiny and delicate, immaculately neat in her school uniform, with her long, black hair in a precise plait down her back, and her fringe straight across her forehead. She was like a doll, and her dark eyes were fixed keenly on Émilie, obviously full of intelligence and drive. She wondered if the other teachers just weren’t used to high performers, but dismissed that as petty.

Either way, Émilie was certain that she and Liangyu were going to get on just fine.

 

*

 

Her resolve had lasted until lunchtime, when she thankfully let the class disappear into the care of the dinner staff, and went to go hide in the staff room. She wished she had brought something stronger than orange juice to have with her lunch.

“How’re you holding up?” Colette asked gently, sitting down next to her.

“She’s a little demon,” Émilie replied, with a slightly manic laugh. “She’s brilliant, but she’s _devious_ with it. I had ‘get to know you’ activities planned for today. She said that she thought I was pandering to the lowest common denominator, and would prefer to undertake self-directed study – that’s _actually_ what she said. She’s _eight_!”

“She’s seven,” Colette told her. “She’s a May baby.”

“I told her that no, she had to participate with the rest of the class so we could get to know each other. She said that she already knew the rest of the class, and I was the only stranger in the room.” Émilie took a bite of her salad, shaking her head and staring into nothing as she remembered it. “So, I told her that was true, but that _I_ needed to get to know _her_ , and once she’d finished the activities, then maybe she could read.”

“She finished early?”

“She finished within ten minutes, with a bullet-pointed list of things she felt I needed to know about her. The last one was ‘I’m smarter than you.’”

There was a barely-muffled laugh behind them, and Colette twisted in her seat to glare at the offender.

“You can laugh, Penelope, but this was supposed to be your class! We all did our time, it’s not fair of you to dodge.”

“You barely did your time,” said Penelope, and she plonked into the seat on Colette’s other side, with a baked potato heavily laden with cheese. “You’d barely had your class assignment three days before you were up the spout! I thought you and Phillip didn’t want any more kids? What a lovely surprise baby number four turned out to be. And oh no, so sad, you only have to teach Chang up until Christmas, what a pity.”

Émilie was startled to see the flush rise on Colette’s cheeks, and she looked back at her lunch studiously to avoid responding. Penelope snorted, and turned to look at Émilie, her dark curls bouncing as she did, studying her thoughtfully.

“Lemme guess,” Penelope said, “once she’d finished her work, she demanded you let her read, and accused you of trying to hamper her academic development?”

“Word for word,” Émilie told her.

“She’s an arrogant little shit,” Penelope declared, mashing the cheese into her potato with some vehemence. “They’ve been working on it with her parents, but she’s just too bright, and she knows it. I told Luke we should just skip her ahead a year, but that chicken Christophe in year 4 nearly wet himself, and started saying it would hamper her social development if we took her out of her peer group.”

“I heard that,” came a voice, and a tall, skinny man, who Émilie assumed to be Christophe, settled in across the table from her. “And I stand by it. It’s bad enough she’s got her current class thinking she’s the Messiah. She doesn’t need to spread her influence to the rest of the school.” He fixed Émilie with a steady stare, pointing at her with his fork to emphasise his point as he spoke. “I had to cover one of their music and movement lessons last year. The tiny terror actually incited the class to a revolution because she didn’t want to do ‘the wheels on the bus’. She said it was ‘facile and repetitive’.”

“Tell her what you did instead,” Colette said, when he paused to dig grumpily into the bowl of pasta in front of him. He glowered moodily at Colette, then looked back at Émilie with resignation on his face.

“A dramatic dance performance to ‘Bat Out of Hell’,” he said darkly. “And then _I_ had to explain to six different parents why their kids kept miming out gruesome motorcycle accidents in the garden.”

It would have been funny, if Émilie didn’t have to face the prospect of handling this for the rest of the year.

“I just wanted to make it a nice day,” she said miserably. “Most kids love having easy first days, the get-to-know-you sessions are great. You get to draw your pets, decorate a name card, chat about your holidays.”

“You can’t make that kid have fun,” Penelope muttered. “Last year, she called out her teacher for having a hangover when she dared suggest a game of ‘sleeping lions’.”

“I mean, she _did_ have a hangover,” Christophe allowed. “But most kids love lying down on the floor and being quiet if you tell them it’s a game.”

“She’s too sharp for her own good,” Colette sighed. “She’ll cut herself if she’s not careful.”

“What are her parents like?” Émilie wondered out loud, not sure she wanted know the answer.

To her utter surprise, the expressions around her softened, and a few fond smiles appeared on the faces of the other teachers.

“They’re really sweet,” Penelope said. “And they’re trying very hard. They just… don’t have a clue about kids.”

“They’re so apologetic as well, they know exactly what she’s like,” Colette added. “And they give such good presents at Christmas and the end of the year, to apologise.”

“Then how on earth…”

“You’ll meet them soon enough,” Christophe promised her. “Then you can see for yourself.”

That wasn’t ominous _at all_.

 

*

 

They made it through the first week okay. Émilie worked out she needed to do two lesson plans - one for the rest of the class, and one for Liangyu, when she either finished the work early, or complained that it was dumb and she wanted to do some real work.

The child had seemed to respect that, and had become much less of a terror in class. They seemed to have reached a decent ceasefire.

It was week two where things went rocky again. And, as predicted, she ended up getting the secretary to call in Liangyu’s parents one day after school.

At four o’clock, she stuck her head out into the corridor, and spotted a tall, broad-shouldered man with long, chestnut hair in a braid peering at the displays on the wall. Dressed in some old jeans, biker boots and a black t-shirt, he was shifting his weight from foot to foot, and his arms were loosely by his side, but he was clicking his fingers restlessly, anxiously.

“Can I help you?”

He whirled on the spot and fixed her with a charming grin and a pair of gorgeous violet eyes.

“Yeah, hi, I’m Duo,” he said, clearing the width of the hallway in two long strides, and holding out his hand to shake. His huge grip swamped hers as he towered over her, and she was both blown away and baffled by the sheer warmth and presence of him. “I’m Liangyu’s dad? You asked me to come in?”

“Oh?” Émilie stared at him, startled. “Oh! Yes, it’s nice to meet you. Please come in.”

She stepped aside and let him come into the classroom, where Liangyu was sat on a beanbag in the reading corner. He didn’t look at all like Liangyu, but the little girl perked up as soon as she saw him and leapt to her feet to trot across the room and fling herself at his legs.

“I’m real sorry she’s been givin’ you trouble already,” he said, his tone apologetic as he stroked his daughter’s hair. She was so tiny she just barely reached his hip. “We’ve been tryin’ to get her to be nicer, but she’s pretty stubborn. I’d say she gets it from her mother, but…” He trailed off, shrugged expressively.

She clearly got her looks from her mother too, Émilie thought, gesturing for Duo to have a seat. He took it, looking comical on the tiny chair, and Liangyu took the seat beside him with a grave expression on her little face. Before Émilie could get her thoughts in order to begin, there was a gentle knock on the classroom door, and it creaked open.

“Yes?” she asked, looking up, and was startled to see another man standing in the doorway - jet black hair pulled back into a neat ponytail, in an immaculate Preventer’s uniform and a serious expression. Shorter than Duo, he was clearly in shape, muscles evident under his fitted shirt.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” the man apologised, shutting the door carefully behind him and moving to stand over her desk. “I’m Mr Chang, Liangyu’s father. I came as soon as I could.”

Émilie shook his hand mutely, and then watched him settle in the seat beside Duo. That had been, unexpected. One was a stepfather perhaps? But, no, then where was the mother? And… her eyes finally clocked the matching wedding rings, and she measured them up again. Duo, apologetic, open, and leaning forward in the tiny chair, bracing his elbows on his knees; and Mr Chang, who seemed more formal, sat upright and precise, his expression resigned and not too dissimilar from Liangyu’s.

“Right, yes, well we hadn’t started yet, Mr Chang,” Émilie began.

“His name’s Wufei,” Duo offered, bumping his knee against his husband’s. “He’s just nervous.”

“Duo.”

“Sorry.”

“Today in class, one of Liangyu’s friends brought in a toy for break. Unfortunately, at morning playtime, there was a bit of a fight over it between Liangyu’s friend and some other children, so I removed the item and told the child they would get it back at the end of the day.” Émilie paused to check everyone was with her. Wufei and Duo nodded at her, and Liangyu jutted her chin out mulishly.

“Was Liangyu involved in the trouble?” Duo asked.

“No,” Émilie said. “Liangyu was not happy that the toy had been confiscated and, at lunchtime, she proceeded to sneak into the classroom and break into my locked cabinet - goodness knows how - to retrieve the toy.”

“ _Duo_ ,” Wufei hissed, in the manner of someone who has talked about this issue at length several times previously.

“ _Liangyu_ ,” Duo pleaded, looking at his daughter and using a tone of someone who has had a different but related conversation the exact same number of times.

Liangyu folded her arms and pouted out her bottom lip.

“It wasn’t _fair_!” she protested. “Angus didn’t do anything wrong! He shouldn’t get in trouble because the other kids were naughty!”

Duo sighed, then looked back at Émilie, shrugging expansively.

“I mean, the kid’s got a point,” he said.

“We’ve raised Liangyu to have a strong sense of right and wrong, and justice,” Wufei said dryly. “Although that does not necessarily include breaking into other people’s cupboards,” he added, leaning to shoot at severe look at the little girl, who glared back, uncowed.

“Other people shouldn’t lock away things that don’t belong to them!” she said, and sat back in her seat with a humph.

“We talked about this, kid,” Duo said placatingly. “If you can’t use this stuff appropriately, we’re gonna stop teachin’ you how to do it. You’ve gotta be responsible.”

“Wait,” Émilie interrupted, startled, “ _you_ taught her how to break into cupboards?”

Duo had the good grace to look sheepish.

“It was rainin’, seemed like something to do?” he offered. “Only simple ones - I can upgrade your lock for you, that’ll keep her out.”

“You shouldn’t have to do that,” Wufei said firmly. “Liangyu will learn to respect the rules set before her.”

“You don’t respect the rules,” Liangyu muttered.

“I'm not seven.”

“Ah, yes, that’s the other thing,” Émilie continued, weakly. “I caught her before she managed to get out of the classroom, and - ah - she used some extremely inappropriate language, and called me…” she trailed off, trying to wonder how to phrase this.

“A fascist fuckwit,” Liangyu offered.

“ _Duo_!”

“ _Liangyu…_ ”

“I told you she heard you,” Wufei hissed, glowering at Duo. “You need to think before you speak!”

Laughing nervously, Duo twisted in his seat to look down at his daughter.

“Liangyu,” he said with a conciliatory smile, “honey. What did we say about callin’ people names?”

“That you should do it to their faces, or you’re a chickenshit,” Liangyu recited, obediently. Duo’s smile tightened into a rictus.

“Come on, kid,” he said through gritted teeth, “throw me a bone here.”

“I’m really very sorry about this,” Wufei said, standing. Duo and Liangyu followed, Duo rubbing his hands over his face tiredly, and Liangyu looking sulky. “We’ll make sure to talk to her thoroughly at home, and this won’t happen again.”

Émilie stood as well, watching them go.

“Maybe you should consider what is appropriate for children?” she offered, a little strained. “If you’re stuck, I often advise parents to think about what their childhoods were like, around this age.”

The two men paused at the door, and shared a look, before glancing back at her with strange smiles.

“Trust me,” Duo told her, as Wufei and Liangyu headed out, “we’re doin’ our best _not_ to mimic our childhoods.”

 

*

 

The next day, there was a handmade card on her desk which said in careful seven-year-old handwriting “SORRY I CALLED YOU A FASCIST”, and a heavy duty padlock set, with a bright red bow on it.

 

*

 

Another week, another conference with Liangyu’s parents.

Émilie sighed heavily and leaned her elbows on her desk, watching at Mr Chang and Mr Maxwell bicker. Liangyu was once more sat in a little chair beside them, looking thoroughly disinterested in the conversation, slouched down and kicking her legs whilst she fiddled with the buttons on her cardigan.

“You have to watch you say around her, we’ve talked about the swearing before,” Wufei was insisting. “She doesn’t know when to use it appropriately.”

“People swore around me all the time when I was a kid, and I turned out okay,” Duo argued.

“You know as well as I do that was _despite_ your upbringing, rather than because of it.”

“Yeah, but it didn’t stop me from succeedin’, that’s all I’m sayin’!”

“We’re rather hoping that the circumstances that allowed you to get here don’t happen again, though, so perhaps we should look on reigning in our language?”

Émilie was about to sigh again, when she spotted Clemence waving through the window on the classroom door with her. She excused herself - not that it was noticed by the pair in front of her - and slipped out into the corridor, where the reception teacher was waiting for her with a grin.

“How’s it going?” she asked.

“Uggghhhh,” Émilie groaned. “They’ve been at it for twenty minutes now.”

“Appropriate language?”

“How did you guess?”

“They’ve had that one once a year since the kid started,” Clemence said with a snicker, turning to peer through the window. “They’ll never get it sorted.”

Rubbing her forehead to try and massage away the headache she felt building, Émilie leaned back against the wall, and took a deep, calming breath.

“I don’t know what to do,” she confessed to the other teacher. “I’m having to call them in every other week. The child’s clearly a genius, but I don’t think they discipline her at all. And some of the things that come out when I talk to her, or when I talk to _them_ \- the other week she was telling the class she was going to learn how to shoot a gun; when I asked them about it, they turned to her and said that she knew they weren’t going to teach her until she was big enough not to get knocked over by the kickback!” She laughed hollowly. “I mean, should I be calling social services to look into this, or what?”

Clemence turned to her with a raised eyebrow, and studied her carefully.

“You worked in Paris before this, right? At a big school in the city?” She asked. Émilie nodded. “Well then, you know what children who aren’t being cared for look like, don’t you? And you know full well that little girl in there isn’t one of them.”

Émilie sighed, and nodded again, reluctantly.

“She’s always clean, always dressed neatly, always fed,” Clemence continued, and her tone was reassuring now, gentle. “She’s confident, chatty, and happy. And those two - they’re some of the most involved parents we’ve got. At least one of them is at _everything_ she does, and they’re always talking to us to work out how they can help. Mr Chang starts his day later so he can drop her off in the morning, Mr Maxwell goes in early so he can come home and pick her up - I can count on my fingers how many times I’ve seen someone else meet her.”

“They’re just so… odd,” Émilie said lamely. “I’ve not come across anything like them before.”

“I get the impression they’re pretty senior in the Preventers,” Clemence said with a shrug. “So I guess there’s something weird going on there, but it’s top secret. They just… don’t know anything about kids, I think, but they’re trying their best. Has she had Esio yet?”

Esio was the stuffed tortoise that the children in class got to take home with them over weekends and holidays if they had been good. They compiled a scrapbook with photographs of his adventures to tell the rest of the class about when he returned.

Liangyu had not yet managed to be well behaved enough to win a weekend with Esio.

“Just wait,” Clemence promised cryptically, grinning, as she headed down the hall. “You’ll be in for a treat.”

Émilie watched her go with a frown, before steeling herself, and slipping quietly back into the classroom.

The situation had changed slightly, and Liangyu was now stood in front of her fathers, looking serious and grumpy.

“You’ve gotta try to be nicer,” Duo was telling her, gently but insistently. “School’s really important.”

“How do you know?” Liangyu muttered sullenly. “You never went.”

“I did!” Duo said, only to be fixed with a scowl.

“ _No_ ,” Liangyu insisted. “ _You_ said that you were jealous I was going to school, and going to have fun, because you never got to go.”

“Ah…” He sat back in his seat slightly. “Well, I mean, that’s sorta true… But…”

“Liangyu,” Wufei said, taking her arm and lightly tugging her over to him. “What you must understand is that Daddy had a very different childhood from you, and even from me. Things were very hard, and it meant that he couldn’t go to school very much. He managed a few, short times, but not for very long. And it meant he didn’t get to do all the things you’re getting to do.”

“Oh.” Liangyu looked at her shoes, plucking once more at her cardigan buttons. “But do I _really_ have to go?” she asked, finally, looking plaintively at her parents.

“ _Yes_ ,” Duo told her, with a grin, and reached out to tousle her fringe. “So say sorry to Mademoiselle St Croix, and promise you’ll be nice to her? She’s a nice lady, and she’s tryin’ really hard.”

“...Kay,” Liangyu said sulkily, although her pout wavered as she was scooped up and placed on Duo’s back as he stood, little arms around his neck.

That was when they noticed her, and she was fixed with a dazzling smile from Duo, and an apologetic one from Wufei.

“Hey, sorry about all that,” Duo said as they moved across the room to her. “We’re going to work on this with her, and make sure she behaves, aren’t we?”

“Sorry I sweared,” Liangyu offered.

“Swore,” Wufei corrected.

“Sorry I swore,” she repeated obediently. “And that I said school was dumb and you were dumb, and called you a-”

“Yes, thank you,” Émilie said hastily. “I appreciate your apology Liangyu, and that you will try harder in future.”

“She will,” Wufei promised, as Duo and Liangyu headed out of the room. “I am sorry about this. We are…” He paused, lips quirking in a wry smile. “...not the most experienced with children. And she is very determined.”

“She’ll go far,” Émilie told him, and his smile became warmer than she would have thought possible, given her last few meetings with him.

“That’s what we hope,” he said, and followed out the room after his family.

 

*

 

The ambulance had just pulled out of the car park, its snuffling occupant safely inside, when Maxwell and Chang burst into the reception looking panicked.

“What happened?” Wufei demanded, as Duo blurted, “Where is she?”

Émilie had had a long afternoon, and was not in the mood to deal with the Chang family dramas. Instead, she gestured tiredly to the row of seats outside the headteacher’s office, where one little girl was holding a wet paper towel to a split lip, and Liangyu was sat beside her, arms crossed and looking thoroughly disgusted with the world.

She didn’t have a scratch on her.

The two men’s shoulders slumped in relief, and Wufei put his hands on his hips as Duo ran a hand through his bangs.

“We saw the ambulance,” Wufei said, finally, to Émilie. “What happened?”

“There was an altercation,” Émilie told him flatly. “We don’t think the other pupil’s arm is broken, but he’s gone with his mother to the hospital for an x-ray just to be sure.”

“ _Liangyu_!” Duo groaned.

“He pushed Cecily off the swing!” Liangyu said, sitting bolt upright and looking furious. “And then he pushed it back into her face and knocked her tooth out!”

Cecily, who was sitting next to Liangyu, obediently opened her hand to show the tooth that she had been clutching in her slightly sweaty fist. She smiled at them through the tearstains on her cheeks, displaying the brand new gap she had.

“What Liangyu _should_ have done at that point,” Émilie said sternly, frowning at the little girl, “was to come fetch a teacher, and we would have punished the boy. What she did instead was to take him out herself.”

Wufei glared at Duo.

“This is because you kept telling her about all the fights you got into as a child,” he hissed. “I knew you-”

“Wait a minute,” Duo said, looking thoughtful, holding his hand up to stop Wufei. “I’m not sure this one’s on me. Liangyu, sweetie, can you show us what you did?”

Glaring at Émilie, Liangyu hopped off her seat, and seamlessly demonstrated the move she had employed to flatten a boy two years older than her. Afterwards, Duo turned and looked at Wufei, eyebrows raised and expression expectant. For his part, Wufei pressed his lips together and then turned to Émilie and tilted his head in apology.

“I'm afraid this one is my fault,” he said, sounding embarrassed.

“You said I should always fight back and stand up for people!” Liangyu accused her parents. She had been chewed out quite thoroughly all afternoon, and was more angry and upset than Émilie had ever seen her, and looked ready to start crying tears of frustrated rage. “You said I should help when someone was being hurt!”

“That doesn't mean hurtin’ other people,” Duo told her, crouching down to try and calm her. “That means doin’ your best to stop what’s happening without makin’ it worse. In this case - you coulda got someone to sort things without having to fight.”

“But you said I had to protect people if I could!”

“She did protect me, Mister Maxwell,” Cecily lisped helpfully through her fat lip. “She was super brave.”

“I’ve spoken to Mr. Theakston,” Émilie told Wufei in an undertone, “and we’ve agreed it might be best for Liangyu to spend the rest of the week at home.”

Wufei sighed but nodded quietly, catching Duo's eye as the other man glanced over his shoulder at him.

“If we send a card to the school to apologise, would you be able to see that it gets to the boy’s family?”

Émilie nodded, and Duo stood, taking Liangyu's hand, walking over to join them.

“Do you know if Lena or Quat is in town this week?” Duo asked quietly. “They might be better explainin’ this than us.”

“We do seem to have rather missed the nuances of it,” Wufei agreed, ruefully. He reached down to take Liangyu's other hand, and got a worried look in response. “It's alright,” he reassured her. “We just didn't explain things very well.”

“I was just trying to help,” she insisted.

“We know you were, sweetie. You did good,” Duo said, squeezing her hand. He looked up at Émilie, and his smile was a slightly sad. “She’s a good kid, y’know? She doesn’t mean to cause trouble, and she’s good as gold at home. It’s just…”

“You may have gathered that we haven’t had the most… orthodox lives,” Wufei continued, with a self-deprecating smirk, and garnering a quiet snort of agreement from his husband. “And we’ve perhaps applied that a little too much to Liangyu’s upbringing – in particular, guiding her to not rely too much on people in positions of authority, or to trust someone simply because of their position.”

Well that explained a lot, Émilie thought wryly, looking down at the little girl who was clearly picking up on the fact that this time was serious. It wasn’t like the other tickings-off she’d received, and she was beginning to look thoroughly miserable as she clung to her fathers’ hands.

“It was good advice, for us,” Duo added. “But… I guess that why she comes across kinda mutinous? I guess we didn’t think about how her life was gonna work differently from ours, or how she was gonna apply it all as she got bigger.”

“Putting it mildly,” Émilie said with a raised eyebrow, studying them. They looked lost and inexperienced, almost as miserable as their daughter did. What kind of parents taught their child not to respect authority, she wondered. What kind of lives must they have had to make that seem like good advice?

So much for this being an easy school.

“I’m off timetable on Thursday afternoon,” she told them, finally. “The rest of the class have music then. If you are able, we can meet and discuss how we can work with this. Make a plan for the year.” She looked down to address Liangyu directly this time. “I’d very much like to work together with you, if you can try very hard to work together with me.”

Liangyu nodded after a moment’s hesitation.

“Thank you,” Wufei said, and then the three of them made their sombre way out of the school.

 

*

 

The next day, there was a large bouquet of flowers waiting for Émilie, and a card and two neatly packaged boxes for the injured boy and his parents.

Hugo’s wrist, it transpired, was not broken but sprained. It meant that his parents were less disgruntled than they had been the previous day, and their feelings were further mollified when the larger package turned out to be a case of expensive wine. Hugo was perfectly happy with showing off his wrist brace in class, but the box containing a collection of comic books and a new race car certainly didn’t hurt matters.

 

*

 

The run up to Christmas went much more smoothly after Liangyu’s brief suspension.

The ‘war council’, such as it had been, had established a new plan of action to work with Liangyu, and her parents, to help get through at least the rest of the term without any more incidents.

After speaking to the head teacher, Émilie had agreed that Liangyu could start on work for the year above, whilst still remaining with her current class – much to Christophe’s relief. If, at the end of the year, she had developed her social skills a little more, they would consider then skipping her ahead of her class for the following year. Should she finish early, she had the new job of ‘Library Monitor’, and was responsible for keeping the book corner in the classroom tidy, and letting Émilie know if any books were missing or damaged.

The little girl had been delighted with her new job, and the badge that Émilie had found to go with it, and she pinned it proudly to her cardigan every day.

She was also given a direct pass to Émilie – no matter where Émilie was, or what she was doing, Liangyu could come find her if any trouble occurred, and trust that it would be sorted out without Liangyu taking justice into her own hands. Whilst this worked neatly with Liangyu’s lessons on not trusting authority simply because it was authority, instead working directly with her teacher one-on-one and building faith in the person rather than the system, it also meant that Liangyu had to promise to accept Émilie’s judgement, whatever it was.

Finally, they introduced the marble jar. For every day that Liangyu behaved, a marble went in the jar. For every time she reverted to her old ways, a marble was taken out. Once the jar was full, Liangyu would be able to pick a treat to share with the rest of the class.

To everyone’s surprise – it worked.

It took a couple of weeks to fully bed in, and even after that there were some days when Liangyu was feeling particularly disinclined to be cooperative.

But by and large, it worked. The little girl was being challenged in her work, allowed sole freedom with responsibilities she took very seriously, and was increasingly less inclined to mete out her own punishments as she saw Émilie handle situations seriously and fairly.

No-one was more surprised by how well it worked than Émilie herself.

But then, as Duo had said - Liangyu wasn’t a bad kid.

 

*

 

It was the last weekend before schools finished for Christmas, two weeks to the big day itself, and Émilie was waiting patiently at the station to head into Brussels to finally get her Christmas shopping done. She didn’t have many people to buy for - her brother, sister-in-law and their kids, plus a few for neighbours and friends - so she was fairly confident she could get it all done.

She stepped onto the train as part of a thick crowd of other shoppers, headed for the bustle of the town, for Christmas parties, or shopping. As the bodies thinned out, she peered down the aisle trying to see if any seats were spare.

“Mam’selle St Croix!” came a familiar voice, as the noise of embarkation settled and the train pulled away. “Mam’selle St Croix! Over here!”

Turning, startled, she saw Liangyu’s little face peering over the top of a seat she was evidently stood on, waving furiously at her. Duo was sat across the table from the little girl, smiling apologetically, whilst Wufei was sat in the seat beside her, clearly trying to get her to sit down.

In the absence of any other seat, and with Duo shifting across to make room for her in their section of four, she picked her way along the carriage to perch beside the tall man with a grateful nod.

“Hello, Liangyu,” she greeted, watching Liangyu finally turn around and clamber back into her seat.

The little girl was always neat as a pin in her school uniform, but apparently that was equally true in her normal clothes. She had a smart red pinafore dress on, with a white blouse and tights underneath, finished in polished black mary-janes. Her hair was plaited into precise pigtails, each finished with a sparkly red ribbon.

“You look very smart,” Émilie told her. “Are you going somewhere nice?”

“Yes!” Liangyu told her. “We’re going to see Heero and his dog.”

Beside her, Duo chuckled.

“We’re going to see everyone else as well,” he told her, before glancing at Émilie. “It’s just a little get-together with friends, going over the last bits for Christmas. And,” he added, turning back to Liangyu, “Magnus won’t be there. We’re going to a restaurant. They don’t let big dogs in.”

“They should!” Liangyu declared.

“They shouldn’t,” Wufei said, amused. “Especially not when they’ve got manners like Magnus.”

“Have you got anything exciting planned for Christmas?” Duo asked Émilie, looking genuinely interested.

“No, not much. I’m going to stay with my brother’s family in Paris. How about you?”

The braided man tilted his head back and smiled thoughtfully at the ceiling.

“We’re spending Christmas with friends,” he said. “There’s a party on Christmas Eve, bit of a tradition, then a quiet Christmas with them.”

“And Magnus!” Liangyu added, in case anyone had forgotten about this amazing dog.

“And Magnus,” Duo agreed.

“That sounds exciting,” Émilie said, addressing Liangyu. “Maybe if you’re well behaved, you can take Esio for Christmas, and then show everyone pictures of Magnus when you get back.”

Liangyu looked delighted at that, but the groans from her fathers at the prospect were so perfectly synced they actually harmonised.

 

*

 

The term ended. The last day was a flurry of Christmas songs and cards, treats and games, before an early finish. There was tinsel everywhere, and the glitter that had been tramped into the carpets probably wouldn’t come out without months of dedicated vacuuming. It would be another eleven months before anyone had to sing Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer again, and that was a welcome relief.

Émilie found herself admiring the usual mass of chocolates, wine, and bath treats from parents, piled up on her desk in colourful gift bags and adorned with carefully written cards from her students.

It was nice to feel valued.

It was a shame she wouldn’t be able to use most of it over the holidays – her brother’s house was going to be pretty crowded. The chance of a nice, relaxing bath with a glass of wine and chocolates wasn’t likely to be on the cards for the next couple of weeks.

Well, she might take some of the wine with her. But she wasn’t going to risk having to share the chocolates.

“You’ve got a good haul,” came a deep, amused voice from behind her, making her jump. She turned to see Duo Maxwell in the classroom doorway, leaning against the frame and grinning at her. He was bundled up against the cold outside in a thick leather jacket, and a dark knitted scarf, cheeks and nose flushed from the December weather.

He was holding a gift bag too, bright against the dark of his clothes.

“You don’t go into teaching for the presents,” she told him, primly, although she could feel the smile tugging at her own lips in response to his laugh – warm and rumbling.

“But it’s a bonus, right?” he said, pushing off the door and strolling over to her, holding the bag out. “Well, it’s ‘cause we appreciate what you do. Particularly, me an’ Wufei appreciate what you’ve done with half-pint out there…” He gestured vaguely towards the playground, where Liangyu would still be playing with the other children as parents chatted, wishing each other Christmas greetings. “We know she’s hard to work with, an’ we don’t know what we’re doin’ at all with her. You’ve been… really great. We’re usually in every week, but since half term, an’ the work you’ve done… You can look, y’know, I don’t mind.”

The last was said with a grin, and Émilie flushed a little, having been caught trying to subtly peek into the bag. At his comment though, she placed it onto the nearby table and began to pick out the contents. A bottle of expensive red wine, some high end chocolates, and some luxury hand cream – _actual_ luxury, she recognised the brand as something she read about famous people using – and a small envelope with the card in.

“This is really far too much,” she said, a little stunned, as she picked up the envelope and started to open it, not really paying attention. “I’m only doing my job.”

“Yeah, well…” Duo shrugged a shoulder, rubbed at the back of his neck under his scarf. “You may’ve gathered that… there’s some backstory with our family, an’ Liangyu… well, as a result, she ain’t like other kids. I know most of the other students here – their parents all commute into Brussels, workin’ in banks, or consultin’, or politics. Their kids are easy – they know the score, they behave, and your day is sorted, mostly.”

“That’s not quite true…” Émilie finished her fight with the envelope, and slid the card out, opening it to read the message inside, then pausing, confused at the little plastic card which fell out.

“Maybe not,” he acknowledged with a chuckle, as Émilie stared at the item in her hand. “But, y’know, it just means a lot that you’ve taken the time to work with her on this stuff. We’ve caused you a lotta trouble, and you’ve been more than great. We’d do anything for the kid, but sometimes we don’t know right from wrong in the same way as other people. Sorry, I’m not great at this sorta thing… Are you okay?”

Émilie was not okay. Émilie was trying to get her head around what had just fallen out of her Christmas card. Something which would have easily cost two months of her salary. And she was being just _given_ it as a Christmas present.

A platinum card to any Winner Executive Hotel or Spa. Would cover all expenses for up to a week.

Duo hadn’t been kidding when he had said most parents for the class were high fliers in the city, commuting to work in highly paid jobs that allowed them the luxury of a nice house in a quaint rural town. Unless Duo and Wufei were a lot higher on the Preventers food chain than she realised, they were clocking in as some of the lowest earners in the class, despite the decent salaries Preventers usually pulled.

So how the _hell_ had they managed to afford this? And why were they giving it to _her_?

Her mouth worked soundlessly for a moment before she remembered how to get her vocal cords to work.

“What - You know I can’t do anything to change Liangyu’s assessments?” she asked, finally, panicked that perhaps she had given them the wrong idea. “There’s nothing standardised this year anyway, it’s all internal - but I mean, I couldn’t - _wouldn’t_ anyway, and…”

“Woah woah woah!” Duo laughed holding his hands out to stop her. “It’s not - it’s not a _bribe_! It’s just a present - you said it was gonna be crowded at your brother’s over Christmas, and there’s a hotel near there. You can use it whenever though, it’s fine.”

“It’s too much,” she said firmly, pushing the card back to him. “Booze and chocolates is fine, but this costs a fortune, I can’t take it.”

“It didn’t cost a fortune,” Duo assured her, gently pushing her hands back. “We’ve… got a friend. The discounts we get would make your nose bleed.” He folded her fingers over the card and stepped back so she couldn’t force him to take it. “Besides, there’s like…” He paused, puffed out his cheeks and let out a breath. “There’s a lot of shit around me an’ Wufei, and where we’re from, and how we got _here_. We’re protective over each other and Liangyu ‘cause of it. So, when I say we appreciate your help - we _really_ mean it. More’n you could realise.”

“I’ve not done anything,” Émilie said blankly. “This is all just… standard teaching stuff.”

“Well, you’re makin’ it work,” Duo told her, and then before she could argue more, abruptly changed the subject. “Look, about… Esio…”

“Yes?”

Duo pulled the stuffed tortoise out of his pocket, and looked at it with a comical expression of dismay.

“I’m not sayin’ that other mascots we’ve been given have had accidents or anythin’, but… just in case, where did you get him from?”

 

*

 

The first day back after Christmas break was generally a bit of a strain. January always felt dull after the excitement of the holidays - dark and cold, the frost was thick on the ground as the children piled back into the classroom. The two week break seemed to have done an excellent job of helping them to forget how they were supposed to behave, and they were noisy, fidgety, and fractious.

In the end, Émilie gave up on trying to get them to sit still for show and tell, and let them out for break time early, hoping that they could run off all their excitement. Liangyu, sat with Esio and the adventure book neatly in front of her, looked rather outraged, until Émilie explained that she wanted the rest of the children to be able to listen properly and fully appreciate the pictures.

At that, the little girl nodded sagely.

“That’s true,” she acknowledged. “Otherwise they won’t see all the pictures of Magnus.”

“Er, yes,” Émilie said. “That’s right.”

Liangyu stood, and went to get her coat, plodding to join her classmates outside. Curious, Émilie sat herself down to peek into the book. The page was marked where Liangyu had taken over, and the first page was the little girl with what she assumed was Magnus.

Magnus lived up to his name. He was huge. Seated as he was beside Liangyu, stood beaming with glee and holding Esio, she was only just as tall as his head - his ears stretched above her, one tall and pointed, the other flopped halfway. Whilst there was obviously some Great Dane in his ancestry, maybe some Irish Wolfhound, aside from that, it was hard to tell. His mouth was soft, his fur short and speckled with colours, and his long tail was spectacularly fluffed.

In the background, Émilie could see a man with tousled brown hair watching the two of them with a soft smile.

Turning the page, she paused, startled. They had gone from the charming photograph in someone’s home, to Liangyu and Esio sat in the front of what was obviously a stretch limo, smiling at the camera with the driver, in his smart cap. Then Esio and Liangyu were on a set of marble stairs, white and curved, the gilt banister wrapped with trailing greenery, rich red bows, and fairy lights. Nestled in the curve, and clearly extending up at least two floors, was a giant Christmas tree. She was dressed in red again, bright and bold - loose silk trousers, and a long-sleeved silk top, in the traditional Chinese style, with lush gold dragons embroidered across it. Her hair was combed into two little buns on the top of her head, and each fixed with a red ribbon.

The next page was Liangyu with Wufei, in similarly traditional clothing - although his was red and black, showing Esio the view out of a high window across a city lit up at night.

The rest of the page was clustered with cut out photos of Liangyu foisting Esio on a number of people in evening wear, apparently all being forced to participate. On closer inspection, Émilie realised she knew them - there was the ESUN Vice President… and the President! The Finance minister, the Mayor of Brussels… There was the presenter from the 10 o’clock news, and the political editor. That was before she even spotted the clusters of celebrities, all crowding to be in the pictures with Esio, clearly thinking it was some kind of publicity stunt.

This hadn’t been just any party, as Duo had brushed it off. This was the official Christmas Eve Peace celebrations. Held annually in the presidential palace.

The final picture was a group one with Liangyu and Esio front and centre, Duo and Wufei crouching either side. The ESUN Foreign Minister was in it, and that was Quatre Winner - so that was who they meant when they said they had a friend with discounts! - arm around the waist of the chocolate-haired man from the first picture with Magnus. That was the head of the Preventers, next to a young red-headed woman in her mid-twenties. Another lady with lighter hair in twin curls framing her face was stood, an auburn-haired toddler perched on her hip, beside a tall man with matching hair swept across his face. A woman with auburn curls stood beside him, looking very pleased.

The closeness of the people, the relaxed stances, the open expressions - this was a family photograph, she could tell.

She was brushed her fingers across the photographs, stunned. Duo hadn’t been kidding when he’d said Liangyu wasn’t a normal little girl.

“Hey! Stop peeking!”

The book was snatched away and slammed shut, Liangyu looking up at her accusingly as the students filed back in.

“Don’t snatch,” she managed weakly.

“You shouldn’t peek - Everyone else was waiting!”

“You’re right,” Émilie acknowledged. “I’m sorry. Shall I get everyone on the carpet now so you can show them?”

Once they were all settled, Liangyu began her presentation with the picture of Magnus. The class was suitably impressed by such a big dog, and delighted by the stories of the gentle giant casually helping himself to whatever food had been left around because he was tall enough to basically reach anywhere he wanted.

She skimmed over the ball pictures, with a lack of detail that astounded Émilie.

“And all these people wanted to take a picture with Esio, and then…”

“Wait,” Émilie interrupted, pointing to the page. “Do you know who this is?”

“No?”

“That’s the Earth Sphere President,” Émilie said. “He’s very important.”

Liangyu turned the book around to frown down at the picture.

“Okay,” she said, finally, and made to turn the page again.

“No, wait,” Émilie said. “What about this person?”

“That’s Lena,” Liangyu told her, happy to know the answer. “She’s nice. She lets me try on her jewellery sometimes. She even let me wear makeup once, but then Daddy came home and told her off.”

“Oh,” Émilie said weakly. “Okay.”

The next three pages obviously constituted Christmas, and despite being liberally focused on Magnus, Émilie realised that the Chang family had clearly spent the holidays staying with Quatre Winner and his partner, to be given such ready access to their dog. And oh, there was the Foreign Minister again. And the Preventers’ head, along with the redheaded young woman, and the family with the toddler, who it seemed was capable of riding Magnus like a pony.

There was Esio with a huge crowd of Middle Eastern men, Liangyu sitting on the shoulders of the biggest, tortoise in hand. There was Esio going for a swim, with Duo kneeling on the edge of an elegant swimming pool arm outstretched to try and reach the hapless toy; and there was Duo, stood fully dressed in the swimming pool, holding Esio, whilst the man with the side-swept hair stood on the side of the pool looking innocent.

Magnus had apparently rather taken to Esio as well, as there was a photograph of the dog chewing happily on the stuffed toy, with Wufei lunging to rescue him. Émilie could see a fair amount of stuffing in the picture as well, and glanced suspiciously down at the toy in her lap, which didn’t look like it had experienced any sort of close encounters with a dog. Checking the label, the text was all bright and new, where as original Esio’s care instructions had long since rubbed off.

Evidently Esio the Second was now present.

She took the book to the staff room at lunchtime, and the other teachers enjoyed pouring over the photographs with her. Clemence nodded knowingly and grinned, and Émilie knew that she had a similar book tucked away somewhere.

At the very least, she now felt less bad about the Christmas presents.

 

*

 

Somehow - _somehow -_ Émilie had made it through her first year in Rijkveld.

The walls were stripped bare again, looking slightly more dirty and worn compared to when she had first arrived. Children had taken work home to their parents, the eldest children had been waved off for the final time, due to start high school in the summer, and the rest had met their new teachers for the next year, excited and bubbling for the change.

Liangyu was skipping year four, being moved ahead to year five. Émilie had gone with Liangyu to meet her new teacher, to talk through the rules they had established and their expectations. The little girl had seemed shy - Annette was very different from Émilie, but seemed equally willing to work with Liangyu. And Émilie had reassured her that she would still be there if she was ever needed.

Now, stood in the door to the playground, she watched her class, and found herself pondering her plans for the summer break.

Almost as if her thoughts had summoned him, Duo Maxwell appeared from seemingly nowhere to shoot her that crooked grin she had grown so familiar with over the year.

“No more presents,” she warned him, feeling her own grin appear in response. “It’d be a waste of money - it's Madam Bonnier you need to be targeting now.”

“Noted,” he chuckled. “Although I think it all worked out as a solid investment in the end.”

“It's all on Liangyu,” she said, looking to where the child in question was demonstrating a handstand - skirt round her ears, knickers on full display. “I just cleared the way.”

“Don't make me play the 'blind and indulgent parent’,” he drawled. “It ain't a good look on me. I'm too believable.”

She laughed, then, and wondered if her next class would have any challenges, or if next year would be terribly dull. Duo watched her, pleased, and then held out a scrap of paper with some lines of writing scrawled across it.

“Here,” he said. “We’re having a thing this weekend, just a bit of a barbecue to celebrate survivin’ another school year. It's nothin’ big, but you’d be welcome.”

“You don't have to keep in good with me,” Émilie said, taking the paper. “Like I said, I’m not her teacher any more.”

“Nah,” Duo said with a shrug. “Now you're just our neighbour, who ain’t got any family nearby, and who did us a solid with our kid. So. Anytime, y’know?”

“...thank you. I appreciate that.”

He grinned again and winked at her, before disappearing to go scoop up Liangyu.

Moving to Rijkveld had definitely been a good idea, she reflected. A very good idea.

**Author's Note:**

> Mega super thanks to Kangofu-cb for the beta read and encouragement, and flagrant enabling.
> 
> \- Rijkveld literally means 'Rich Field' in Dutch. I figured some farmers went out there once and were like "wow, how fertile it is here. These fields are rich with planting" or something, but in Dutch or French. It's obviously a town I made up, but I imagine it to be south of Brussels, towards the Francophone region of the country, but on the edge of the Dutch-speaking areas.
> 
> \- at 7, Liangyu is at the top end of the ages I trained to teach (technically in year 3, she's just hopped over into the next age group). I have based this school set up very much on the UK system, since that is what I am familiar with. As such, Liangyu is wearing a uniform, which for kids her age looks something like this in the Autumn/Winter: http://bp.theayres.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/9572s-314x440.jpg with variations between a pinafore dress or just a skirt, and colours of the cardigan and shirt - for Liangyu, I pictured white shirt and green cardigan.
> 
> And the Summer uniform is this: http://www.kingsworthy.hants.sch.uk/_files/images/webpage%20photos/7A81084B7530974A549090CEF5E32F4B.jpg For Liangyu, it would be green again. I saw one school when I was a kid which had yellow summer dresses and honestly I wanted nothing more than to have a yellow summer uniform. But green it is.
> 
> \- All of the techniques that Émilie uses are tried and tested behaviour management methods in classrooms. The marble jar is usually used for whole-class behaviour management, but hey, Liangyu's a special case, and probably had some rude things to say about the star chart, that would have lost her a star.
> 
> \- It takes a village to raise a child. And also to buy nice apology presents for said child's class teacher.
> 
> \- The stuffed toy and adventure book is something that I loved when I was teaching - kids got to take the little mascot on adventures, take photos of the toy seeing all these new places, and then they'd go in a book to show the rest of the class. It was a great way to get kids to engage with each others' lives and interests, through the connecting factor of the Class Bear or whatever.


End file.
